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“So what was it like?”
He shrugs. “Well, itlookslike an awesome place. The boardwalk has loads of places to eat, good junk like cotton candy, ice cream, hot dogs—”
“Ugh, I’m still too full to hear about food.”
“Truth. I could barf just thinking about eating right now.” He’s still smiling when he says, “From a kid’s perspective, the place looked magical, but it was March and nothing was open.”
My eyes go wide. “He took you off-season?” And now my heart is breaking, picturing Liam as a kid, walking down a deserted boardwalk on a gray, blustery day with every storefront shuttered.
“Yep, Mr. Rhodes Scholar didn’t figure the beachside attractions would be closed for business in the winter.”
“Jeez.”
“I know, right? And by the time I could look back on it, really examine it, you know?” He looks to me and nods. “Then I felt sorry for the guy. Which is pretty generous of me if I do say so myself, being as I spent most of our father-son bonding trip holed up in a booth in a bar while he played pool.”
I have a clear visual in my head of the scene, and it’s so sad that I ache for him. I don’t look directly at him, but rest my left hand on top of his and gaze at the ways my fingers naturally fall into the gaps between his much larger hand. Liam flips his hand over after a moment, inviting me, I think, to fully slip into his hold. When I do, I feel him let out the breath he’s been holding as I do the same.
“I want to read that essay someday.”
“He tore it up.”
“What?”
“The teacher tore it up in front of my entire class. But I dug it out of the garbage, remnants of kids gum and God knows what else on it, and I taped that sucker back together. I’m not even sure why I kept it.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“Why? I mean, does it matter? And couldn’t one argue that it’s better to let go of the painful shit from our pasts?”
I see his point, but I’m kind of desperate to know as much as I can about Liam. I’ve never been as close to anyone—my friends, my one crappy excuse for a boyfriend, my parents—as I feel to him, a guy I’ve known for a ridiculously short period of time.
“Your father, for as absent as he was, is a major part of your story. Maybe he’s not a part of your life, but he’s a part of your history the same way Grace is a part of mine. Even if I never get to meet her.” After a quiet moment, I add, “I want to read it so I can know you better. I think you’re pretty fascinating.”
He doesn’t answer, but doesn’t let go of my hand either.
“I don’t like this,” he says as we pull into a truck stop.
“It looks all right,” I say, even though the area does look sketchy. It’s three hours into our drive now, and I have one seriously full bladder. “I don’t think I can hold off much longer, Liam.”
“Fine. Wait,” he commands when I go to exit the car in a hurry. “I’m coming inside with you and parking my ass right outside the door to the ladies’ room.” I roll my eyes even though I’m grateful, and sort of happily dumbstruck over his desire to protect me.
“Stay close to me,” he says, taking my hand as we enter the convenience mart. The fluorescent lights are harsh, highlighting the haggard face of the woman working the register, a teenager who looks at items in the snack aisle while surreptitiously casing the store, and an older trucker fixing himself a coffee.
And I take the quickest pee ever, hovering over a seat that looks like urine droplets from dozens of different women have been intermingling on its surface for weeks. There are small mounds of wet toilet paper strewn about, with one used sanitary napkin barely wadded up with paper before being tossed to the ground. People can be so gross.
I make the universal facial expression forewwas I exit and make eye contact with Liam, and he just shakes his head laughing. Tipping my chin in the direction of the mens’ room, I say, “You’ll see. I am not being a princess right now.”
“Can’t be that bad. Stay put, I’ll be thirty seconds, tops.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” I do wander back into the food mart, grabbing a seltzer for myself and a soda for him.
Maybe fifteen seconds have passed when he’s right behind me. “I told you to stay put!”
“I’m like, twenty paces from where you left me. I’m not exactly roaming around taking in the scenery. So, what’s your poison?” I ask, holding up a ginger ale in one hand and one of those energy drinks that look like they would rot your insides in the other.
“Water is good…Maybe some licorice, too.” He answers my question before I can even ask. “I’m not tired.”
After grabbing chips, licorice, gummy bears, and two bottles of water, we get back in the car and take a moment to look at the GPS and sort out the rest of our journey.
